


Love Bites

by Verkaiking



Series: MP Chronicles [3]
Category: Once Upon a Time (TV)
Genre: F/M, Outlaw Queen - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-04-28
Updated: 2018-04-28
Packaged: 2019-04-28 20:15:49
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,561
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14456910
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Verkaiking/pseuds/Verkaiking
Summary: Madam President verseBased off this prompt: Robin gives Regina a hickey, she doesn't notice until someone, in the middle of a meeting, asks her what happened. Married OQ.For Lisa =)





	Love Bites

There’s two main rules to their physical relationship: One, they can’t do anything indecent in places where they could be caught, and two, he’s not supposed to leave marks.

They’ve been quite lax on the first one since they went public three years ago. Thankfully no one’s actually seen them yet, but she knows it’s a poorly-kept secret among the staff that President Mills has engaged in sexual activities with her husband in almost every room of the White House.

 _You just make it so difficult for me to restrain myself_ , Robin has told her, _with those tight skirts you sometimes wear, and those lips all red and tempting_. And Regina has to admit she enjoys tempting him, has found herself picking out certain outfits for her slower work days that will guarantee she ends up pressed against the wall of the oval office, hair tousled and lipstick smudged and kissed off as she catches her breath.

So yes, it is safe to say they’ve thrown rule number one out the window. But rule number two has not changed, and goddammit he’s not supposed to leave marks.

She hadn’t even noticed it, had gone about her day after a quick fuck in the Lincoln Bedroom, rearranging her rumpled blouse and pencil skirt so that no one could tell she’d had Robin’s hips pinning her to the cherrywood dresser, his cock pounding into her from behind. The whole thing had been his doing, really, he’d been the one to kiss her silly, to touch and squeeze and prod just right, until the press of his erection against her and his raspy moans of _Want you now_ had convinced her to step out of the office.

And it’d been _good_ , so good, feeling him hard and thick inside her, his fingers digging into her hip as he thrust faster and deeper with her every whimper, until she’d cried out and come just a few seconds before he did. God, she’ll be replaying that one in her head for months.

In fact, that is exactly what she’s doing when Ingrid comes in to announce it’s time for her meeting. Regina straightens in her seat, clearing her throat and pursing her lips as she grabs what she needs from her desk, and she sees Ingrid’s curious eyes, but thinks nothing of it. Her assistant may be efficient, but she is also highly judgmental, Regina’s not about to ask why she can’t stop staring.

They move quickly down the hall, her heels clicking on every step. She can still feel her husband’s eager hands all over her, grabbing her breasts, pinching her nipples just right, his breath hot on her neck and shoulder blade as he’d held her to him and fucked her the way she likes. She’s getting a little flustered just thinking about it, about the way he’d bit into the crook of her neck and sucked hard as he bucked into her over and over again... She’s supposed to be concentrating on her meeting, on what she wants her writers to convey in the speech she has to give this weekend at the Human Rights Summit, but she can still feel his tongue on her skin, his cock pulsing inside her. God, she’s gonna need another round before dinn—

“Madam President, what is that? Were you hurt?” her head writer asks, a young man by the name of Naveen who seems to be truly concerned for her. It’s then that Regina turns to look at her reflection on the shiny glass window, and sees the evidence of Robin’s horny attack on her neck. Her first instinct is to tell him he’s seeing things, that it was probably just a trick of the light, but now everyone in the office is looking at her, their eyes zeroed in on the reflection of the hickey she’s sporting.

Mortification instantly takes over, and she gulps, turning back to her staff and addressing Naveen with a panicky, “Oh, that’s... that’s nothing, I... it’s just a rash from the new necklace I wore yesterday. It’s fine. I’m fine.”

She’s getting up as she speaks, her hand covering the purpley-red spot on her neck as she hurries through her thank-yous and goodbyes, promising to deliver her notes on the second draft by the end of the day, and then she’s out, almost sprinting to her room.

It stares back at her in the mirror, clear as day right there on her neck; Regina can almost see the exact shape of his lips on the bruised skin, and she is livid.

So instead of changing into something that will cover the mark, instead of dabbing foundation on it to make it less noticeable, instead of doing any of the things she’d intended to do when she walked into the room, she stalks out and towards Robin’s office, her steps thundering with her rage.

She doesn’t knock, doesn’t even announce herself, merely slams the door open and glares at her husband, who up until that moment has been calmly discussing some work-related topic with Emma.

“Agent Swan,” Regina starts, but her eyes have not strayed from Robin, and her tone is clipped in her greeting. “I need a moment alone with Mr. Locksley.”

Out of the corner of her eye, she can see how Emma cringes, and Regina moves her gaze to find the blonde offering Robin a sympathetic look, pushing out of her chair and standing before them.

Emma has always been good at reading the tension in the room, Regina knows. It’s part of why Robin trusts her so much, part of why the job of Head of the Secret Service went to her when he retired from it. It’s a skill that right now carries the woman out the door with a cringe and a half-wave, barely pausing to observe protocol and offer Regina a polite _Ma’am_ before she leaves and closes the door behind her. Good. It seems Agent Swan knows to give them privacy for what will happen next.

“Is something wrong, my love?” he asks her, and god, the nerve on him.

“As if you didn’t know,” she berates, yanking the collar of her shirt when he has the gall to look even more confused than before.

It dawns on him then, and he seeks confirmation by asking, “Was that... me?” and wincing when Regina fires back an angry _What do you think?!_

“Shit,” he says when he sees the angry red mark, stepping out from behind his desk and attempting to hold her. “I’m so sorry, Regina,” he tells her, and to his credit, he sounds sincere as he explains, “I didn’t realize—”

“Save it,” Regina snaps, turning away from him and pacing back and forth as she lets him have it. “Years, Robin. We’ve been together for _years_ , you know I don’t like that! You were supposed to respect my choice, how dare you do this to me?!”

“Whoa, whoa, whoa, breathe, my love,” he tries to placate. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to, I didn’t even see it when we left this morning, I—  I’m sure no one’s noticed yet.” He’s pausing her frantic steps by running a gentle hand down her arm, but Regina snatches said arm from his grasp, his words making her angrier as she paces away from him and back again, continuing her tirade.

“ _Naveen_ did!” she thunders. “He asked me if I’d gotten hurt so _of course_ the entire writing staff immediately started staring! I had to come up with a half-assed lie —that I’m sure no one in that room believed for a second— and run away, do you have any idea how embarrassing that is?!”

And then, to her complete and utter outrage, Robin has the audacity to look amused. In fact, he’s barely holding on to his serenity, hiding his laugh behind the hand he raises to his mouth, but she can see it in the crinkling corners of his eyes, in the spark that shines in them as he watches her, and she is _done_.

“I cannot believe you’re laughing right now!” she yells, slamming her hand against his desk and startling him. Good. “You’ve embarrassed me in front of my staff, Robin. How do you think that looks?! How am I expected to keep their respect when they’ll be thinking of the giant hickey on my neck at every meeting we have?!”

“Regina—” he tries, sobering up as she lashes out again, interrupting him.

“Don’t! Don’t fucking tell me that you didn’t mean it, or that I’m exaggerating, you know how important this is to me! I can’t believe you let me embarrass myself like that, Robin. You know better than this!”

“Alright, alright, I get it!” he flares up. “No need to keep berating me, Your Majesty, I heard you right the first time!”

“Oh, no,” Regina snaps back. “You don’t get to do that, you don’t get to act like I’m the one taking things out of proportion here. You ruined everything!”

“Yes, yes I did!” he finally says, yelling just as loud as she is. “And I said I’m sorry! I wish I could fix it but I can’t, what else do you want me to do, Regina?!”

They both go stop, breaths shallow and audible in the sudden silence, but it doesn’t last long, because next thing she knows, she’s grabbing him, her hand holding onto his neck and brusquely pulling him to her, lips crashing instantly.

He’s a little taken aback by the action, and so it takes him a few seconds to respond to her kiss, but one hard bite to his lower lip and he’s right where she wants him, letting out a little moan and immediately moving his hands to her ass, kneading as his tongue pushes against hers, the kiss a bruising, wild thing that falls open on the near-growl she gives him when he pushes her closer.

Regina hears him panting when she veers off to suck hard at his neck, feels the way his chest rumbles against hers when he lets out a guttural, half-hearted complaint of, “What are you doing?”

Her reply isn’t exactly subtle, hands forcefully pushing him onto the seat just behind him so she can climb him. Her skirt is constricting, and when she forces the fabric by hiking it up to her rear, she hears the tell-tale rip of it, hears the moan Robin gives in reaction, and then she’s huffing out a breath as she moves to rid him of his shirt, scratching his chest in her efforts until she gets the thing open and his torso exposed to her.

When she straddles him in the armless chair, her tongue licks a trail up his neck, until her mouth latches onto his again, teeth biting and pulling as she seeks his belt buckle with her hands. There’s nothing soft about this, nothing loving or fun, this is payback, and frustration, and Regina refuses to stop.

His hands are on her rear again, his loud _Fuck!_ encouraging her to press closer when she finally throws the buckle somewhere behind her and deftly undoes the button and fly, her hand pulling his cock out of the fabric and pumping him in time with her own angry, shallow breaths. He’s moaning a little louder on every pass, a little deeper, growling her name, telling her he wants her. He’s not hard enough yet, but getting there, and she moves her hand away and shifts up his thighs a little bit, until she feels him lined up right against her barely-there underwear, her hips grinding down against him as she attacks his neck again.

Her mouth is urgent against his skin, biting into the spots she knows will rile him up the most; the side of his neck, his shoulder, his jaw, his earlobe and back down to his neck. She finds the little crook that she usually dips her tongue into to make him moan, and this time she closes her lips around the area and sucks. Hard. Harder than she ever has with him, her lips seeking out revenge for her embarrassment. She feels him wincing, and feels concerned for a split second, because this isn’t exactly love making, and she’s hurting him. But he’s urging her on, rasping “Don’t stop— fuck me, I love you like this” as his hips jerk involuntarily against her, the tip of his cock pressing up into her clit over the thin slip of fabric separating them.

Regina grinds down onto him, sucks at his neck again, and again, harder, teeth sinking into the tender flesh until he lets out a groan that’s more pain than pleasure. That’s when she finally lets go, straightening up and tearing at her own shirt, the sound of buttons raining onto the floor made even more satisfying by the way he moans and moves his hands instantly to her breasts.

He’s hard now, getting harder as he yanks down the cups of her bra and toys with her nipples, little pinches and rolls that have her growing wetter and wetter, and when she reaches down to shove her underwear to the side and finally take him inside her, the meshy fabric is soaked with her arousal.

For some reason feeling how ready she is for him at her own doing makes her moan, has her playing with her clit for a few moments while he watches her, his hands still touching her where they can, one on her nipple, the other on her waist, fingers digging in in an effort to gain some purchase and push himself into her. Regina doesn’t let him, pushes her own fingers inside instead, rocking into them as she glares down at him, furious even in her aroused state.

He’s glaring right back at her for denying him pleasure, pinning her with this primal, angry stare as he watches her, and he’s so hard beneath her now, so ready, trying so desperately to stop his eyes from closing in bliss when her wet fingers accidentally brush the tip of his cock.

And then she takes him, sinks down onto him when his head lolls back and he doesn’t expect it, and his answering groan has utter satisfaction zinging through her.

Regina keeps her eyes on him, forces him to look up at her as she growls, “Never. Do that. Again.” Each pause in the sentence is accentuated by a grind of her hips, and Robin moans, nods frantically, apologizes once more even as he coaxes her to move again, and again, and she doesn’t stop, doesn’t take her time, keeps fucking him hard and fast on that chair until he’s panting and _So close, Regina._

“Not yet,” she orders, and her tone is harsh as she meets his erratic gasps with the almost violent grinds of her hips down onto him, taking him in deeper, harder, her mouth moving back to his neck and sucking at the little welt she’s left there. It feels good, claiming him like this, showing him he’s not the only one who gets to mark the other.

“Can’t... hold out much lon— oh, fuck, do that again,” he urges, and she’s so caught up in the throes of her desire, that rather than withholding his pleasure, she obeys and thrusts in that little circular motion again, reveling in the wet echo of his cock pressing into her.

Her lips move over his neck to the other side, sucking there, too, marking him again. The new sensation makes him shiver, and she chases that shiver with a little bite, her tongue pressing into the area to soothe the sting as she knocks harder and harder into him, until the chair is rattling and every buck of her hips has him hitting that delicious spot inside her, unleashing wave after wave of fierce pleasure, her thighs trembling with the need for release.

Her hands hold the back of the chair on either side of his face, elbows bent to bring her closer to him, their breath mingling as she fucks him over and over, his fingers digging into her ass as he guides her movements, trying to slow her down as he begs her to let him come.

“I can’t... you feel so good, I’m... fuck, Regina, I need to come,” he pleads when he moves one of those hands to her clit, fingers strumming just right, and that, paired with desperate his words, sends a thrill through her. It all feels so good, exquisitely good, his fingers giving her exactly the stimulation she craves, enough so that she gives him a little nod of permission, her forehead brushing his, and then he’s yelling out a “Oh, thank god,” and not two seconds later, he’s trembling beneath her, coming and coming as Regina does the same, her hands losing their grip on the chair while her legs shake and her face falls into his shoulder, her hips undulating as she rides the blissful current of her orgasm.

His breathing is quite shallow, warm exhales coming fast against her neck, and she feels him turn his head to lay a kiss in her hair, right hand coasting up her back until he reaches the clasp of her bra and undoes it quickly, the elastic fabric snapping lightly against her skin as he runs his fingers over her back again, uninterrupted this time.

The contact is soothing, settles the tumultuous beating of her heart as she comes down from... well, everything. The anger, the hurt, the pleasure, all of it. It eases away slowly, and a tear escapes her as she whispers an _I’m sorry_ into his shoulder.

“What on earth for?” he asks, his voice low and comforting.

“That was revenge,” she admits as she pulls back to watch him, her fingers moving feather-light over each of the two bruises she’s left on his neck. “It wasn’t right.”

He grins, raising a tender hand to her cheek and rubbing his thumb over the apple of it. “We’ve had our fair share of angry fucks over the years, my love; it’s fine.”

“I just felt so powerless,” she tries to explain, “so ashamed, sitting there while everyone stared and speculated...”

“I should’ve been more careful,” he tells her, that hand moving to her hair now, playing with the curled ends of it, and Regina smiles.

“Yes, you should have,” she agrees, shifting back on his lap so that his cock slips out of her. “But still, I shouldn’t have used you like this.”

Robin chuckles then, shaking his head as he plays with the loose strap of her bra and absolves her with, “Do you hear me complaining?”

She scoffs a bit, because that’s not the point, but then he’s bringing her closer, his lips brushing her ear as he tells her, “In case you haven’t noticed, that is my cum dripping down your thigh right now.”

She feels a little lick of heat at his words, turns her head so she can kiss him, long and deep, tongues stroking and tangling, his hands massaging her thighs while her own hold his face.

When they part, he looks absolutely irresistible; flushed from their exertion, with his torso covered in a light sheen of sweat, his hair delightfully disheveled, and that smart-but-tempting mouth giving her the sexy half-smirk she loves as he insists, “You can use me like this whenever you wish, Madam President.”

This time she does laugh, exhaling against his collarbone when she cuddles into him, her arms trapped in the hug he gives her in return, his lips dotting a little smooch on her shoulder as he holds her.

“Are you alright?” he asks after minutes of silence, and she nods into the crook of his neck.

“I love you,” she says, because he won’t take her apology, but hopefully he’ll take this.

“I love you, too, Regina, so much,” Robin replies, and it alleviates the ugly storm of guilt weighing on her chest, makes her breathe easier as she settles more comfortably in his arms.

“Not that I don’t love having you half naked and sweaty on my lap,” he starts, after minutes of comfortable silence have ticked by, his tone soft and sweet, “but don’t you have work to do?”

It’s not an accusation, but rather a curious observation (and it’s her own fault, Regina realizes, because every time they have these office quickies, she disappears right away, always so busy), and she really should head back to her endless pile of responsibilities, should at the very least go and apologize to her speech writing staff for leaving their meeting so abruptly, but none of that is as important as this moment, right now, with Robin and no one else.

“I’ll get to it later,” she says, surprised at the raspiness of her voice. She clears her throat, straightening a little in his arms so she can look at him again, her fingers playing with the hair at the nape of his neck as she smiles. “Right now I just want to stay here. With my husband.”

And the way he beams at her, the way he lifts her tired legs as he moves them to the couch and holds her close, is more than enough proof that she’s exactly where she needs to be.


End file.
